Virgil and the Last Straw
by Gumnut
Summary: It all came to a climax on that day, but, really, it began many weeks before that.


Title: Virgil and The Last Straw

Author: Gumnut

27 - 28 Jul 2019

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS

Rating: Teen

Summary: It all came to a climax on that day, but, really, it began many weeks before that.

Word count: 3889

Spoilers & warnings: Angst

Timeline: Standalone

Author's note: Nutty's Fandomversary Fic Seven – Virgil and the last straw

Okay, I admit this one was written outside the prompt request order. I apologise, but it was a special day for i-am-chidorixblossom and I wanted to write this fic as close as possible to that day. I hope you had a fantastic day, Chiddi! And I hope everyone else enjoys it as well :D

Disclaimer: Mine? You've got to be kidding. Money? Don't have any, don't bother.

-o-o-o-

It all came to a climax on that day, but, really, it began many weeks before that.

It started with his vacation. Or more the lack of his vacation.

He had been hanging out for his week of leave. Ever so looking forward to it. A few days in Paris before another few in Florence. A chance to walk idle, not rush, not be anywhere in particular, just explore.

Ever so looking forward to it.

Until an earthquake in Japan took so, so many lives. International Rescue did everything they could, but as always, they couldn't save everyone. Virgil had a child die in his arms, followed by her mother. And to top it all off, a chunk of concrete caught him unawares, bruising his shoulder and causing him to wrench his ankle in an attempt to get out of the way. Gordon had to pull him out from under the remains of the shopping centre.

So shitty rescue and no vacation.

But it didn't stop there.

Four days later, he woke from a fitful sleep to a raw throat and a high temperature. By the end of the day it was a full-blown flu. Hobbled and aching all over, Virgil Tracy curled up in bed and hid. Worse, he had to kick out his entire family, worried that any of them might catch the bug and cripple IR further.

Alone and miserable, he suffered through a nasty week of shivering, aching and a god-awful hacking cough. He shed weight through lack of appetite and not a little nausea. By the time he crawled out of his room he was a shadow of himself.

Two days later, while Virgil was still confined to the island, a cargo plane collided with Thunderbird Two midair. Her cahelium hull took the impact well, but the opposing craft tangled in her port wing, destabilised her flight and yanked her out of the sky.

Fortunately, they were over water and flying low enough that when they hit the ocean surface, both ships survived. Unfortunately, the cargo pilot did not and Gordon, who was flying TB2 suffered a nasty concussion.

A mad scramble with Alan in Thunderbird Four held precariously aloft by Thunderbird One and they fished Gordon off the ocean floor. Their aquanaut brother spent a few days with nausea, a throbbing headache and a deep-seated fear of his second eldest brother.

He needn't have bothered. Virgil was only thankful Gordon had survived.

It could so easily have been worse.

It was with this determined thought that Virgil faced hauling his 'bird off the ocean floor. Scott tried to ground him - Virgil was still sporting a nasty cough and was far from fit - but the engineer put up such a verbal fight, Scott was riled up and they ended up shouting at each other.

Not quite the effect the commander had been looking for.

So Virgil got his way and led four specialised pods out into the middle of the Pacific.

Halfway home, his 'bird hanging below them, one of the support cables snapped. Thunderbird Two swung unbalanced, dragging his pod toward the waves. It was only thanks to a hurried grapple shot from Thunderbird One, flying escort, that he didn't end up back in the drink.

It was a sad and slow limp home.

Another argument sparked up almost the moment the two brothers set foot on Tracy Island. Scott arguing that Virgil should go to bed, Virgil denying the broken cable was his fault. The younger brother was such a mess he didn't realise Scott wasn't blaming him for the cable, he was just concerned for Virgil's health.

It turned into a screaming match for the record books.

It took John, hot from re-entry, to stop the yelling.

"What the hell is going on here?!" His normally calm voice, raised in volume was enough to shock both brothers out of what had become a pitiful excuse for an argument.

John didn't give them the chance to answer. "I can hear both of you idiots from space. Virgil, you are still sick. Go to bed." Virgil opened his mouth to protest, but turquoise eyes narrowed in on him. "Virgil, now."

There was something in John's expression, something somewhat alarming. To Virgil's consternation he realised he was trembling. Not from anger, but exhaustion. John's frown deepened and Virgil took a step back. It was his 'bird. His beautiful 'bird.

"Go to bed, Virgil. She will still be there in the morning." More reassurance than admonishment.

How could he explain that leaving her on her runway like that just hurt? That she would haunt his dreams? That he wouldn't sleep?

"Go, Virgil." Soft, but firm.

He frowned at John, but found himself turning towards the elevator and his rooms. His hands were shaking. Damn it, this was ridiculous.

As he entered the elevator, he heard John turn on Scott. "What the hell were you thinking?!"

The doors cut off Scott's reply.

He made it to his rooms and didn't even bother to undress, just throwing himself onto the bed. His boots hit the floor with a double thunk and he closed his eyes.

Thunderbird Two fell from his grip over and over and over.

-o-o-o-

The next morning he woke feeling even worse.

He ignored it and headed down to his 'bird.

Brains had moved TB2 into her hangar and had engaged the automatic cleaning system. A vacuum pump was sucking the moisture out of her systems and drones buzzed around her, picking seaweed and sealife off her hull.

She stunk.

How many times would he have to wash ocean out of his girl? She wasn't a submarine, but she was determined to try to be again and again, either voluntarily or involuntarily.

Brains hurried up to him. "W-we are going to n-need to replace part of h-her thruster assembly. Sand h-has corroded her intakes beyond r-repair."

Damn.

That was a week's worth of work in itself.

"What else?" No doubt Brains had done a thorough assessment already. The man slept less than Scott.

"Forward c-cannon flooded, e-electrics blown, port wing warped, port s-structure suspect..." Brains continued down his mental list and Virgil's heart sank further and further into the tarmac below.

Planes weren't meant to survive falling out of the sky.

He was lucky she was a Thunderbird or she would be little more than scrap metal.

Didn't stop him from dropping his face into his hand.

"A-are you okay, V-Virgil?"

He looked up to find the kindly engineer staring at him worriedly.

Virgil sighed. "I will be. Once she's flying again."

To his surprise, Brains reached out and put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. "W-we will fix her, Virgil."

A slight smile and Virgil placed his hand on the one on his shoulder. "Yes, we will."

They both turned to stare up at the green behemoth.

Another sigh.

"Guess we better get started."

-o-o-o-

By mid-morning Virgil was considering changing careers. Perhaps he could move to London and hang out with Cass McCready. He could still do good, but he would never have to scrub sand out of anything ever again.

Brains was called away an hour into their schedule, John having some difficulty with Thunderbird Five. So Virgil was left to himself and a handful of bots.

An hour was spent programming the fabricators to create the parts he needed.

Three out of the five parts he initially built proved faulty and had to be recycled. He started from scratch twice.

Worse, the electrics issue proved more complicated than expected. TB2's hull was watertight under normal circumstances, but the warping of her wing had created stress fractures on her port side. Just enough for some water to get into the electrics. Wicking action had drawn that water into most of her electronics, including her computer core.

The heart and soul of his baby had drowned at the bottom of the ocean.

The discovery had him on his knees in her cockpit silent for a whole minute. It was hidden as she was completely powered down, but he had found the water trail.

His head landed in his hands.

"Virgil?" It was quiet.

"Not now, Gordon. Just not now."

"You okay?" He heard his brother's footsteps on his girl's decking. A hand landed on his shoulder.

He shook it off. "Not now."

"V-"

"Gordon, please, just...leave."

"Vir-"

"Get out! Leave me alone! Just go!" It came out in a rush and it was loud.

His brother left in a hurry.

His throat hurt in more ways than one.

Alone, he coughed so hard he saw stars. Leaning back against the main console, he closed his eyes and just sat.

-o-o-o-

It hurt, it was a challenge, but Virgil was a Tracy. Ten minutes of despair was enough and he pushed himself off the deck and straightened his shoulders.

She would fly again even if he had to program and rewire her himself by hand.

Back to the fabricators. Another programming run only to discover they were low on cahelium and optical fibre. Supply orders on the IR network and an argument with an idiot clerk halfway around the world who didn't know the difference between copper and optical.

Cahelium was unique to IR and required base level processing. They were low because he had missed his own job list due to illness. That and he didn't usually need to replace half a Thunderbird.

The thought just hurt.

Automation was the key to Tracy Island's manufacturing processes.

When he discovered one of the cahelium smelters was offline due to a faulty part, his head almost exploded.

Okay, take a break. Another coughing session had him leaning against the smelter console gasping for breath.

For goodness sake.

Coffee.

Coffee.

His go-to for comfort and reassurance and energy.

He would grab a coffee and attack this from another angle calmly.

He made it to the kitchen without losing another lung and settled in front of his second favourite machine.

Poking buttons for his comfort concoction, he stared at the gadget as it sparked under his fingers and died.

He was speechless for an entire minute.

"You have got to be kidding me." It came out in a hoarse rush.

His fingers hit the buttons again, but the machine was dead.

No coffee.

No coffee.

He lost it.

The world whited out in fury and the coffee machine was suddenly airborne. It flew across the kitchen to land with a godawful crash on the other side of the room.

Someone yelped and he looked up to find Alan hovering near the stairs, his eyes wide with a combination of terror and worry.

The sight of his little brother running away from him up the stairs, sobered Virgil immediately.

Shit.

Shit.

SHIT!

His hands climbed into his hair and he let himself slide down the kitchen cabinets until his butt hit the floor.

Damn.

His head fell into his hands.

And his throat closed up, barely allowing him to breathe.

-o-o-o-

He sat there for he didn't know how long. His butt was sore and another cough was building when he was joined by a brother dressed in his familiar blue. Scott sighed as he folded himself down beside Virgil. He didn't say anything, just sat beside him.

Virgil didn't even acknowledge his existence.

"I've sent Alan to the mainland to get us a new coffee machine. Told him to get one with all the perks."

He didn't answer. Took too much energy to answer.

An arm wrapped around him and his head was drawn to his brother's shoulder. "Talk to me, Virg." Quiet, a little rough and worried.

Scott, always so worried.

Virgil didn't want to talk.

He just wanted it all to stop.

He closed his eyes and leant into his brother. The arm around his shoulder tightened and was joined by Scott's other arm wrapping around him and holding him close.

It wasn't worth crying over, but god he felt like it.

Spilt coffee and all.

His sigh was more like a sob, despite his eyes being dry.

So tired.

That cough built again and he was once again hacking up a lung. His brother held him as he spasmed.

Great. Now he would never get back to the hangars to fix his 'bird.

"You know, you don't have to do this alone?"

Huh? He looked up into worried blue. Who else was going to do it? She was his 'bird. He had to put her back together.

"Don't look so shocked. I don't recall you leaving any 'bird unattended in such a condition, why would any of us neglect yours?"

"I-"

"Virgil, you're sick and exhausted. We've got this. Give yourself a break."

"But what if we're called out-"

"We can only do our best, and what's best for you right at this moment is rest."

"Scott-"

"No, Virgil." He drew in a breath. "Don't you trust us?"

"I-" His breath hitched and he was coughing up yet another lung. Scott was rubbing his back. His head was pounding.

"Go to bed, Virg. I'll send Grandma up to make sure you're comfortable." Virgil shot him a frightened look, but Scott held up his hand. "No food, no home remedies, I promise. Just Grandma."

With that Scott stood up and offered Virgil his hand.

The engineer stared up at his brother, half-heartedly defiant, but took it anyway. As if to drive the point home, the world wobbled for a moment and he stumbled.

Scott caught him and started leading him up the stairs. "Bed, Virgil. Leave Thunderbird Two to us."

His suspicions were immediately aroused when Grandma met them at the top of the stairs. To top it all off, a glance into the comms room and he found three other brothers, one engineer and a sister peering at him worriedly.

What the hell was John doing down here?'

"C'mon, Virgil, dear, let's get you comfortable." Grandma was no nonsense and despite his physical strength being many times hers, he gave no resistance as she led him into the elevator, into the residential section and eventually into his rooms.

At least she didn't offer to undress him.

But she did tuck him in. "Now, rest, Virgil. Everything is going to be okay." Her hand found his hair and her fingers combed gently through.

Mom used to do that.

Mom.

He sagged into the bed. Perhaps he could let go.

Let go.

-o-o-o-

"You know, kid, I've been doing some research on you."

Virgil froze in the door to his bathroom. He knew that voice. Oh god.

A glance over towards his sofa and yes, it was confirmed.

Kip Harris was in his living room.

He blinked.

What was Kip Harris doing in his living room?

Virgil became suddenly very aware that moments before he had wandered zombie-like out of his bedroom wearing little but a pair of pyjama pants and attended to his morning necessaries in the bathroom with his idol sitting on his couch in full view.

Thank god, he had shut the bathroom door this morning.

"Mr Harris? Uh, what are you doing here?"

"Gordon let me in. Said you'd be happy to see me." Yes, that was a smirk on the older man's face.

Gordon was so dead.

Kip snorted. "Don't kill him, son. I was fully aware of what I was doing. Sally said you were having a bit of a low run. I thought we could take this opportunity for a little one-on-one." He held up his left leg. It was wrapped in a cast. "Had a bit of a low one of my own. Thought we could share the boredom."

"Really?" Okay, so it was higher pitched than normal.

"Why, sure. As I said, I've been doing a bit of research and I find myself admiring your work. Wouldn't mind swapping a few stories with you, myself."

Virgil was staring.

"Of course, that's if we can talk." The man was grinning at him.

Virgil flushed scarlet.

More so than normal since he wasn't wearing a shirt. "Um, I'll just go get some clothes on first."

"No, hurry. Though Sally's laid on a breakfast down there. Something about O'Malley's speciality?"

Virgil was staring again.

A blink and he was moving.

Red flannel was thrown on in a hurry. O'Malleys was not something to be toyed with. The family owned business was to steak what the Tracys were to rescues. Their breakfast menu was to die for.

Scott must have hauled it in on TB1 to get it here fast enough.

He offered Kip a hand up and the man deployed a pair of crutches. "I'd be very interested if you'd fill me in on how you and your brothers managed to get a panda off a plane midair."

Virgil held the door. "How do you know about that?"

Kip grinned at him. "Oh, a little brother may have mentioned it. Something about you slicing off the entire rear end of a plane?"

"Really?"

"Well, it might be presumptive of me, but I believe your brothers are quite proud of you."

Virgil froze halfway down the corridor. "Exactly how long have you been on Tracy Island?"

"Oh, long enough to be told several heroic stories starring you."

Virgil didn't know whether to be embarrassed or alarmed. He blushed either way while holding the elevator doors.

"Don't you be worrying about it, son. It never hurts to have a proud family." Something flickered across the man's face for just a moment before the grin returned. "Though I have to say, young Gordon, was particularly enthusiastic. Did you really do that with a barbecue?"

Shit.

And Kip burst out laughing. "Oh, I can see why he does it. With a face like that, son, you're just asking for it."

Somebody was asking for it.

"Heh. I had one of those, rapscallion little brat. Drive you to the edge, but then risk his life to save yours." He smiled down at Virgil. "Cherish him while you can."

A frown and he relented. "Yes, sir. I do, sir."

"And drop the 'sir'. The name's Kip."

"Yes, sir."

A flat stare.

"Yes, Kip."

A small smile. "Much better."

The elevator doors opened and they were suddenly surrounded by the most delicious aromas. Steak, eggs, and, oh god, bacon.

And coffee.

Coffee!

"Virgil, honey, help Kip over to the table." Grandma.

"What? Oh, sorry, sir." Virgil moved furniture out of the way, giving Kip easy access to the well-laden table and helping him with his chair.

Scott shot Virgil an assessing glance, one he must have passed because his big brother didn't say anything, only dropping a plate down in front of first Kip then Virgil. A soft smile before he turned back to grab some cutlery.

"Hey, Virg, how you feeling?" Gordon's grin on the other side of the table was a little hesitant though determined.

"Better, thank you." A pause. "Sorry, for yesterday." He caught his brother's eyes trying to convey his sincerity.

Gordon waved a dismissive hand. "Don't worry about it, bro. We've all been there. She's your 'bird. Totally get it." As always, Gordon's tone was flippant, but the emotion in his eyes said everything. Their russet brown sparkled with fondness.

Virgil's attention was sideswiped by Alan barrelling into him. "Virg, tell me you're okay."

Totally stunned, he froze for a moment. Alan hadn't hugged him like this in years. He struggled to find words as his hands wrapped around him. In the end he settled on doing exactly what his little brother asked. "I'm okay."

"Good." Alan let him go, briefly squeezing his arm before ducking around an absorbed Brains towards the food on the table.

"Sit down, young man. Where are your manners?" Grandma, ever on guard, glared at the youngest.

John slid into the seat beside him. "Good to see you finally awake."

"What?"

"You were out for a good fourteen hours. Scott was on the verge of breaking into your room with a medical scanner."

"I was not." Scott slipped into a seat opposite John. "You're exaggerating."

"I am quite capable of reporting the facts, Scotty. It's my job after all."

"Scotty?"

The smile that curved John's lips was pure smart ass.

Virgil raised an eyebrow. "You haven't called him Scotty in years."

"There's a reason for that." Scott's glare was so flat it affected the curvature of the planet.

John's smile just got wider. "I think I'll start using it again. It communicates so much."

"Sure, Johnny." Scott had his own weaponised smile.

"I can live with that."

Virgil's eyes widened. That was a first. He darted a glance at Gordon, but the aquanaut's expression reflected his own, eyes wide.

"I'm beginning to think I might need that medical scanner."

The moment he said it, he regretted it. Four pairs of eyes latched onto him, worry foremost.

"Virg?" Gordon spoke before any of them.

He flung up his hands. "I'm okay, honest. It's you I'm beginning to wonder about. Are you guys okay?"

"We are now you are." Gordon's voice was quiet. A sigh. "Eat, Virg, you're half the man you used to be." His brother dumped a huge slab of meat on Virgil's plate and followed it with a couple of eggs and a pile of bacon.

"You might as well, son. Family won't be happy until you do." Despite himself, Virgil jumped. He had forgotten Kip was there.

"Yes, sir."

There was a scoff from Gordon across the table and a slither of toast slapped Virgil on the forehead.

"Gordon Cooper Tracy! Where are your manners?! We have a guest." Grandma was sitting on the other side of Kip, her hand on his arm.

Oh, yes, that.

Ignoring that thought, Virgil turned to Gordon. "What the hell was that for?"

"Virgil! Language!"

"Sorry, Grandma."

"You boys settle down and eat your breakfast. This is a rare treat. Thank you to Scott for the early morning flight to collect this meal. And Kip." She patted the man's arm and they smiled at each other.

Yes, that.

A large mug of steaming coffee appeared at Virgil's elbow and he jumped. His sister smiled down at him, knowing the exact effect she had on him. "Good morning, Virgil. Here's your coffee." Kayo's smile was laughing at him.

"You love doing that, don't you."

"Oh, you know I do." Her hand landed on his shoulder. "Good to see you are feeling better. You had us all worried."

He blinked as she brushed past him and took a seat on the other side of Grandma.

Her words sunk in. He was feeling better. There had been sleep and now there was family. Kip Harris was willing to talk shop and there was enough food to feed a hoard.

His 'bird was still grounded. There was still work by the bucketload. His body still wasn't running at one hundred percent. But this was a moment. This was his family.

"Thanks, guys."

Gordon grinned at him and Scott caught his eyes, his blue smiling.

The coffee was warm as it hit the back of his throat, but it wasn't the source of the warmth in his heart.

A small cough to clear his throat and Virgil smiled.

He was a very, very lucky man.

-o-o-o-

FIN.


End file.
